A few rather long stories on a really hot day that has not included indoor plumbing or A/C… bear with me here.

CATO cashier:
“Wow! You are really pregnant!”
“Um, thanks. I have at least a month left.”
“Is it twins or something?”
“No.”
“Oh. Um, you look really good.”
Gee, thanks! Somehow I’m not certain that was a compliment after all that. But it does explain why I’m feeling mostly miserable these last few days. Apparently I look ready to explode. It’s going to be an interesting month-month and a half.

I went out alone today. Shocker, I know. But apparently being alone with a giant belly invites all sorts of comments I haven’t gotten since several kids back. A man in the store asked me if I was having a boy. When I said I didn’t know, he informed me he thought I was, since my “all-round, low belly” usually means a boy. Time will tell, but it was interesting anyhow. With all of the others I’d have random people guess and only once do I remember someone being wrong. Apparently if you feel free to comment, you have a lot of experience with these things.

Oh, and the reason I was out and about on a Saturday? Blaine disconnected the sewer to work on it. First, no hot water, then no water except in the hose and the toilet and the kitchen sink, and now, no nothing except the hose and the kitchen sink. No toilet is not a good plan. TMI, I’m sure, but I’m pretty sure my balance is off enough right about now that finding a tree and attempting to make use of the outdoors would land poison ivy or some such thing in some pretty dreadful places when I fell over. Thank you, Hobby Lobby, for your public restroom. And Blaine, for suggesting that today was a great day to go shopping – alone. Dear man.

Monday I went grocery shopping. Hang in there with me here, this story gets better. So first I took the kids to the library, checked out 35 books – mostly kids books I’ve read 12 times each, aloud. But I digress. So we haul the books back to the car, thoroughly enjoying the 100 degree day. Literally, 100 degrees. Hottest day since 2007 I’m told. We made a deposit at the bank, after debating whether to get cash out. Nah, I’m good with just the debit card and the 30.00 cash I have. Got to Aldi, needed a quarter for the cart. No wallet. My wallet seems to have migrated from my purse to an unknown location – at home. I had 30.00 cash in my purse anyhow, so if I be careful at Aldi, I’ll be fine there, then I’ll call Blaine and get his debit card from him. Faster than going home – 12 miles away from where I was. If I hadn’t made the deposit yet, things would have been fine – I could have gotten cash. But no ID and no debit card means the bank won’t talk to me now. So I broke part of my 30.00 to get a quarter for the Aldi cart, and some apparently less than careful calculating, and checkout later… 34.76. Nope. Not going to work. Put some cereal and butter back. We’ll survive until next shopping trip. 29.83. Seriously! I have 29.75. The other .25 is in the cart. The cashier must have had one of those days before, because she gave me change for 30.00 and told me to bring the quarter back inside after I’d returned the cart. Whew. Embarrassing, but I’ll survive.

Call Blaine. No answer. Try again. Nope. Fine then. I’ll drive the 12 miles home to get my wallet, because this was the day, there was my list, and some things were pretty critical on it. Half an hour later, I’m at the bread store, wallet in hand, and my van that has decided to overheat when the A/C is running some time ago – forgot to mention that part – the van overheats even with no A/C on. Remember, it’s 100 degrees. I have four sweaty kids with me who were quite hungry, waiting for the bread store stop so I could make them PBJ’s. The van decided overheating during A/C was not enough. Not it’s overheating without A/C. Solution: turn the heat on. High. Open windows, blaring heat, praying for all green lights as we head to our last stop – trust me, things were not so pretty. I’m fairly cool (ha!) most of the time, but this day was seriously getting to me by then. I parked at the far end of the lot at the last store, finding a pull-through spot just in case this trip ended with a bang and I needed to be able to get to the front of the van. You know, that fear.

I can’t find my list. Seriously. Please, end this drama now and let something go right? I’m digging, and I hear Bang! Bang! I turn to see Ruby with her new metal water jug, banging the shiny red car that parks on the far side of the lot to avoid people like me and my children and their metal water jugs denting his shiny red car. “RUBY! NO!!!” She stops. I start to inspect the shiny red car – still quite shiny and without evidence of Ruby’s abuse, look up, and an older man is watching me. Just the type of older man that would own a… oh, no. Please. No. But of course, it’s his car. And all he says is “My! That’s a lot of children! Do they obey?” “Um, most of the time, but they are children and right now… we’re at the end of a shopping trip and it’s hot and things are not going well.” “Ah, I see.” And he got into his car and left! No inspection of Ruby’s work. Really, she didn’t do any damage. But I was scared nonetheless. So I found my list, got my things, and then took the interstate home, just so I could get more air in the van than the fearfully hot air blasting into my 33-weeks-pregnant lungs up to that point. And yes, my lungs are pregnant too. Trust me on that one.

Just for the record, Blaine also offered up his van for my use until the other is fixed. It does not have a second sliding door and is smaller, but the A/C works and the heat is only optional. I accepted. He’s a very kind soul.